


Silver Tongue

by Skylark42



Series: Bottom Geralt [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Rimming, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark42/pseuds/Skylark42
Summary: Jaskier stills for a moment, and says far too casually “I wonder if you can come just from this, just from my mouth and fingers.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bottom Geralt [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816201
Comments: 9
Kudos: 435
Collections: Abby's Witcher Collection





	Silver Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to my fic Lovely Bottom, but you don't have to read that first. Seriously, it's just smut, but if you want to read it first it's here https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989011

The skin of his palm is broken where he's bitten down on it. He doesn't want to make any noise—the walls in this inn are thin and the neighbors will hear. Jaskier seems determined to make him lose his resolve, however.

Geralt is on his knees on the bed, one hand clutching the headboard and the other shoved against his mouth. Jaskier is behind him, eating him out like a starving man presented with a feast. It starts slow, with long, languid licks over his hole, tongue just catching on the rim, gradually growing faster. Then swirls around his rim, teasing and soft. Finally, Jaskier's tongue delves in and circles him and Geralt moans around his hand.

He's never felt anything like this before. It's intimate and dirty and it feels fucking fantastic. He wants more. He's only vaguely aware that he chokes out the word 'more' because he hears Jaskier chuckle—and that feels pleasant against him, a gentle little vibration. He doesn't have time to think about it before Jaskier is diving in, delving his tongue inside him and fucking him with it. His mouth moves hot and dirty against him and he can feel teeth against his rim, can feel the stubble on Jaskier's cheeks against his skin.

His knees feel wobbly and weak and he moves his hand from his mouth to grip the headboard. “Fuck,”

Jaskier's hands come up and his thumbs hook on either side if his cheeks to pull him further apart, letting his tongue delves deeper. Geralt bucks back against him, then stops, trying to restrain himself. One of Jaskier's hands moves to his hip, encouraging him to move. Well, if Jaskier says it's alright...

Geralt rocks his hips back, trying to get more of that delicious feeling. Jaskier is licking into him, alternating between stabbing and swirling, changing just when Geralt gets used to one sensation. He backs away to nip at one of Geralt's cheeks and Geralt whines, a needy little sound he could have never imagined coming from his mouth.

“Fuck, you make such pretty noises, I love you like this.”

Geralt wants to snap at him to get back to work then, but Jaskier dives back in before he can speak with renewed gusto. He winds a hand back to grip Jaskier's hair and hold him in place—he'll let go if Jaskier tries to move, of course he will, but it's an obvious demand _stay here_. Jaskier laughs against him and continues his ministrations. It's good, but it's not enough.

Geralt feels hot all over, his body burning and his skin feels too tight. He's sweating and panting and his eyes are starting to tear up. Gods, he's never felt something this good. He's so close, so close to going over the edge but he can't tip over. If he puts a hand on himself he could, but Jaskier had asked him before they started not to and Geralt agreed. He's a man of his word, after all. But he needs, needs something.

His hand moves back to the headboard, gripping so hard he hears the wood creak. He's panting too hard to make any coherent words, only small, pleading noises. He manages to wring out “Jaskier, I need-”

“I know what you need,” Jaskier says, and Geralt can feel him smile against him, the smug bastard. “I've got you.”

Then a finger is slid in alongside Jaskier's tongue and it finds that spot inside him with ease. It runs gently, so gently, not nearly enough. Geralt lets out a strangled sound, nearly a sob. It's embarrassing, but he can't keep it in. He needs more, needs Jaskier to give him more, just a little more. Jaskier's mouth moves away and Geralt tries not to voice his displeasre.

Jaskier stills for a moment, and says far too casually “I wonder if you can come just from this, just from my mouth and fingers.”

“Not if you don't use them,” Geralt growls, at the edge of his patience.

“Pushy little bottom, aren't you?” Jaskier says, but he sounds absolutely delighted by the idea. He puts his mouth back to work and crooks his finger again. Geralt is torn between the sensations, the wet drag along his walls or the gentle rubbing against his prostate. It's too much, but it's not enough. His cock is hard and leaking, and it feels like this has gone on for hours.

“Jaskier...please.” He's never said 'please' in bed before, never had to, but he's not above begging at this point. Not with Jaskier.

Jaskier's finger speeds up, moving relentlessly as his tongue fucks into him. Geralt feels his entire body clench as he gets closer and closer to the edge then topples over. His vision goes white and the sound that comes out is more animal than man, scraping his throat raw. The wood of the headboard cracks beneath his fingers and his knees turn to jelly. He comes and comes, for what feels like ages, before his legs give out completely and he falls forward unto the pillow.

Geralt entire body is humming with the aftershocks. He doesn't even hear Jaskier move, hasn't realized he has until the bed creaks with his weight settling back on it. Jaskier has oil in his hands and he slicks up his fingers, sliding two inside Geralt. They stretch him out, and it's almost too much, he's so sensitive, but it just makes it better.

“Fuck, look at you. I need to fuck you,” Jaskier says, voice strained and desperate. Good, he needs to feel a little desperate after making Geralt feel like that.

“Then fuck me already.”

Jaskier slides inside him and swears. Geralt feels too wobbly to do much, his legs still weak. “Shh, it's alright darling, let me do the work,” Jaskier says, nuzzling against his neck. “You're so pretty like this, so good.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier's front pressed to his back, Jaskier holding himself up on his elbows over him. They're so close he can feel his heartbeat against him, sharp and fast. But despite that, Jaskier fucks him slow and careful, deep, slow strokes that hit like a punch to the gut. It's an almost leisurely pace, and Geralt feels himself growing hard again. “Harder,” he demands and Jaskier obliges, beginning to drive into him with renewed vigor. Every thrust is deep, hard, but still slow and steady. It's nice, letting the pleasure build up until he can't bear it. “Jaskier,”

Jaskier speeds up without his having to tell him. It's good, good enough to have him moaning again—and since when did he make this much noise? Jaskier would be unbearably cocky about his sexual prowess now. The friction from the bed on his cock is nice, but he needs something more, wants Jaskier's hand on him. Eyes shut from pleasure, he blindly reaches out and grabs for Jaskier's hand, directing it to his cock.

Jaskier takes him in hand, stroking in rhythm. Geralt feels him climax building again, and it hits, not as hard as before, but still so, so good. Jaskier finishes right after him, and both collapse down unto the bed. “That was...”

The bard seems at a loss for words, so Geralt just hums in agreement. Jaskier props up on one elbow and grins at him. “You love it, don't you? Being on bottom?”

“Hmm”

Jaskier sighs deeply, mostly theatrical. “If only you were as vocal out of bed as in.”

Geralt feels his face heat up. “...Shut up.”

A long moment passes before he says, “If you want to...be the one in control, I'm not opposed.”

Jaskier smiles. “Are you saying you want me to top more often?”

Geralt grits his teeth together. Jaskier knows damn well what he means, but he's going to make him say it. “...Yes.”

“Geralt, all you had to do was ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think:)


End file.
